Somewhere
by S. Jadevine
Summary: And they have to lead their lives apart, the rest of the days bleak without each other. Walking away has always been known. Even when it came, it never made goodbye easy.


_"Have to be dead to forget. Maybe even not then...Maybe I'll be like that man in 'The Hanging Tree.' Still waiting for an answer." - Gale Hawthorne_**  
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**Somewhere**

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_So you sailed away_

_Into a gray sky morning_

**HIS** tattered shoes hit the cobbled street of Two. A few locals amble woefully along sidewalks, exaggerated surfaces of sorrow as though their district had been the sole reminder of death and defeat. Not so. If he remembers correctly, it's the Capitol that fell. These people must be merely empathizing in a fashion only this puppet district can do.

_Hello again_, he silently greets his new home.

Gale takes tentative steps forward, painfully conscious of the eyes that stare at him. The fame is too meddlesome for his own good. He wonders what these people know about him, how much, and when he will be able to learn about it. But while he does not yet discover, he is going to pull for now the impassive mask he has taken to wearing ever since he was thirteen.

The rough facade came with his rebellious streak and it hid him until the death of the only love he braved to offer. Only once did he let her listen to his then unravaged heart. And he had to say it in a whisper, in that cabin nestled in the forest just the two of them see as home.

"_I know."_

He finds himself sitting on a chair right outside a café, unconfident on what to do next. He cannot remember a time in his life when he had been indecisive of something, apart from everything that had to do with Katniss. It was a temporary belief that leaving her would lift him that burden.

How so misguided he was.

Several days have passed since he left the Capitol, resolving to board the next train right after he gave her that arrow. The information about his itinerary failed to reach him but he cannot even bring himself to care. He wandered around, boarding the train a few more times just so he does not need to stay long in a place. All he wanted was to get away from all of it. Away from her, his Katniss.

He had known for quite some time that when the war's over, Katniss would not come running into his arms. He had seen it in her eyes — how wounded she was when Peeta pushed her away, when he himself was suffering because he was fighting a war for her in the first place.

What a downfall Katniss had been.

He closes his eyes in the wistful hope that his riven heart may mend this instant. Because he is here and she is not, never will be. For such a long time he dreamed of finally waking up next to her, but it was eternally erased without much of his control.

His grip on the armrest becomes tighter as he places all resolve in his hands. He wants to go back to the Capitol, to familiarize himself with her missing smile. And he wants to apologize. That he was sorry for not taking extra care of Prim.

Gale looks up to see an unfamiliar sky, dried out of its own tears. That is when he lays eyes on her. Spasmodic beats drum his chest because it cannot be possible that she is here. Or that she is the same girl from years ago.

She smiles as soon as she is close enough and goes to sit on the chair opposite him. She does not ask permission, nor does she seem unsure about it. It must be confident of her to barge like this.

"So," Katniss says.

If he does not want to be found, he can never be found. But she did. It makes the opposite of his belief a lowly truth. Maybe he does want to be found after all.

"It's easy for Haymitch to track down the trains you've boarded. He's waiting at the train station. I only have a few minutes," she answers with a voice that is not hers, one that is hurting just for attempting to explain. Because something in them must not change, must it?

Gale knows no word in existence can ever define how he feels, how proud he is of her, how in love he is that it hurts.

They sit there for quite some time, two people who do not know how to say the right things.

"It's beautiful here. It will be good for you. And Hazelle and the kids," Katniss whispers.

There are words that don't need to be said and those belong to that set. Between the lines, Katniss tells him how sorry she is that she cannot stay. In the ephemeral silence that happens every after sugarcoated word, she wants Gale to know that she won't be watching his back again.

Sometimes love can be a soothing caress on the hand or just a slap in the face. He musters the courage he has left to touch the burnt face of his hunting partner.

"Katniss, I'm sorry."

There. And that he misses her already, but she is too lost in his apology.

"I know."

Will he always wait for an answer? Because those two words are never enough.

"And I'm sorry, Gale," she chokes through unshed tears. Her eyes are fraught with pain that he could not move, scared that if he does he would only mirror her grief.

This is after all the essence of this stolen moment, bittersweet expressions of sadness and regret. Katniss came here for this. She stands up, starts to walk away without so much of a goodbye. Gale calls her Catnip for the last time.

She looks back with a smile and the words come out clumsily. In a whisper, like he did that night.

_I love you._

So Gale returns her their last smile together as he lets Katniss go back to home. At least one of them will.

He starts to walk away, too.

_And it may take some time to patch me up inside_

… _And I may find in time that you were always right_

_You're always right_


End file.
